


I'll make them see reason

by Mitsuky



Series: One-Shots [4]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Dovahkiin is done with their bullshit, Gen, High Rhothgar - Council of Peace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:53:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25714597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mitsuky/pseuds/Mitsuky
Summary: While Ulfric and Tullius squabble about, the Dovahkiin plans how to raid their rooms and fantasizes about shouting them down the mountain.
Relationships: Dovahkiin | Dragonborn & Serana
Series: One-Shots [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1863037
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	I'll make them see reason

The Dragonborn sighed for the thousand times in so many minutes and turned his gaze upwards. The quagmire between the Stormcloaks and the Imperials was a nightmare to deal with in a normal day; here, at the summit of The Throat of the World, where the Greybeards are so graciously hosting the Peace talk, it’s infinitesimally worse.

You’d think that since he asked them to stop the war, for a measly single day, to call a dragon and discover where Alduin is hiding, they’d have the courtesy to abide by his request without much fuss…Heh, FUS, he snorted dumbly at his own joke, earning the attention of the congregation, but he ignored their odd looks. After so many hours of hearing Ulfric whining like a spoilt brat and asking for one too many concessions in favour of his group, he’s more than up to Fus-Ro-Dah-ing his arse all the way down the mountain, in the hope that the uneven terrain and the height will turn the obnoxious jarl’s ugly mug, into something less unsightly.

It’s not as if he’s asking too much here, you know? A day of neither side moving their troops around Whiterun and that’s it. That’s all he needs, for fucks sakes!

Dragons prowl around, burning villages, killing people, eating cattle and worsening the famine going on that the war is not aiding at all with; and here they are, Tullius and Ulfric, squabbling about like toddlers for toys, discussing which holds of Skyrim to exchange for the effort of stopping the war-effort for the day he asked.

The Dragonborn’s annoyance reaches new heights never before found before as the third hour tickles by, and as he stands with a determined glare, silencing the room, he plans his way into raiding the two leader’s rooms of anything and everything they may possess. The morons deserve it for making him deal with, ugh, politics.

“It seems like you don’t want me to kill Alduin after all. Or am I wrong?” He spoke slowly.

“Dragonborn!” Ulfric shouted outraged. “It’s your destiny and duty to kill the World Eater and put an end to his tyranny!”

The Dragonborn hummed nonchalantly, “Is that so? Then why are you making me lose time here when I could be on my way back to getting rid of the nuisance?”

“We need to settle the terms of this cease-fire,” Tullius huffed, looking at him like he was the dumb one in the room.

But before he could continue, the Dragonborn growled; a deep, rumbling, animalistic sound escaped his throat, the vibrations of it heightened by his Thu’um strengthening his voice. Many around the table paled considerably, squirming in their chairs and avoiding his cold, judgemental glare.

“While you lose me precious hours I could use into taking care of the dragon problem, Alduin feast off the souls of the departed in Sovngarde. I couldn’t care less about who obtains control of what hold!” He roared angrily, hitting the stone table with both palms and making the group flinch. “It’s a single day I’m asking, for you two to stop this shitty war! Not a week, a month, or a year. One, single, fucking, day!”

Taking a deep breath and straightening, the Dragonborn took a look around the room, sneering at all of them but for the monks observing silently opposite him, and nailing them to their places with his wrath clearly visible on his face. No one felt courageous enough to confront him then, he realized with pleasure, and hoped this time, when he talked, they’ll listen to him.

“There doesn’t need to be any concessions about this, but your words that coming next Loredas no one will attack Whiterun, so I can work on saving your useless hides from been turned into munching toys for the dragons. Is that really too much to ask from you? Or should I turn my back on the people and ignore the problem altogether? Because, honestly, you are tiring my patience already.”

“NO! You mustn’t!” The Blades jumped with wild eyes and looking scared of that result coming to happen.

As one, all the participants of the council of peace started scolding the two leaders for their hard-headedness that was making their hero think of letting the dragons win. And finally, when Tullius and Ulfric shared a fearful look, turned down their heads in abashment, and mumbled their acceptance of the request, the Dragonborn sighed, Happy this time.

The two are a really good match, the Dragonborn thought as he descended from the mountain later that evening. He’s sure they’d be good friends in any other lifetime…if not for Ulfric being such a loathsome racist pig. And as he remembered his plans for the raiding of the two childish bastards’ rooms, he cackled loudly, earning a concerned once over from Serana.


End file.
